


It looks good on you

by amberandmetal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Clothes Stealing, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Oral Sex, Top Sam Winchester, Weecest, Who Knows?, Wincest - Freeform, Wincest Writing Challenge, blowjob, either way sammy is taking charge, or sammy is a bossy bottom, sam is fifteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberandmetal/pseuds/amberandmetal
Summary: Startled awake in the middle of the night Dean rushes out to find who is in their current home. Sammy quickly follows- but what he finds more interesting than the source of the loud noises is his brother's choice of sleepwear.





	It looks good on you

**Author's Note:**

> This is just pwp, nothing else. Written for Wincest writing challenge round 18.  
> I got the prompt "First time someone steals clothes from the other"  
> If you are the kind of person who needs your ships to give explicit consent then this is not for you. Dean wants this but he is a bit recalcitrant to give in because of the whole "protect Sammy" and sibling thing. But trust me when I say, these boys both need and want it bad.  
> Happy reading!  
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://waywardkitten.tumblr.com/)

## I

    A loud clattering from the ratty old kitchen woke both Winchester boys up with a start.

Dean swung his legs quickly over the edge of the bed, quietly pacing over to his brother to push him back down, silencing him with a finger against his own lips. He slowly closed his fingers around the saw-off leaning against the end of the younger Winchester’s bed and fox walked over to the creek in the door.

    Sam sat ramrod straight in his bed, silently mouthing “ _Dean_?” but his brother only shushed him again, gesturing for him to keep quiet.

    Another clatter sounded through the house as if from pots and pans raining down on the linoleum floor and this time Dean seized the opportunity and kicked the door open, aiming the shotgun at whatever was in their kitchen.

    “Dean, put that thing away before you hurt yourself!”

    “ —Dad?”

    Dean let the weapon hang limply by his side as Sam came up next to him, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

    “Dad, _what the fuck_?”

    “Watch it,” their dad’s tone was rough and  threatening despite of his apparent inebriated state and Dean promptly clammed up, “I —,” he sighed, “I got a call from Pastor Jim. I need to leave tonight, I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

    He spread some more pans across the floor in a cacophonous noise as he dove farther into the corner cupboard.

    “We have to stay in this shithole? Dad, we are _squatting_! What do we do if someone comes and tries to move us?”

    Sam looked at his brother, the obvious and poorly concealed annoyance in his voice — it was _not_ a normal occurence that he mouthed off to their dad— down to the slightly too tight t-shirt and sweatpants that hung a bit too low on his hips and looked _awfully_ familiar.

    Their dad got up from the floor with a large leather case in hand and stalked over to them, his eyes turbid with drink, and shoved a shiny new credit card to Dean’s chest.

    “Then you get yourself and your brother a room at the nearest motel. And as always: the first motel listed in the phone book.”

    And just like that, once again, their dad was gone out the door and they were left on their own.

  
  
  
  


## II

 

    “Dean?”

    “Sammy, just get to sleep, I’m too tired to deal right now.”

    Silence.

    “Is there a reason why you’re wearing my clothes?”

    Silence.

    “.. _shit_.”

    Sam could’ve easily pinpointed the exact moment the air in the room turned tense and electric— still.

    “..Dean?”

    The room was a dim mix of darkness and pale moonlight streaming in and draping itself over an array of various objects; Dean’s bed was on the other side of the room, the only part clouded completely in darkness, but Sam could still hear him. A soft mutter of ‘ _fuck, fuck, fuck_ ’.

    Sam swallowed, anxiously licking his lips. It _had_ looked good on him, hadn’t it? But then again what didn’t? His brother had always been beautiful, lean, sculpted, _strong_. The two sizes too small t-shirt had only accentuated that fact.

    The clothes were nothing special in particular, but the oddly shaped rip by the hem of the t-shirt and the unmistakable inkstain on the thigh confirmed that they did _not_ belong to Dean.

    The implications of what this meant was enough to make Sam’s head swim, his lips suddenly completely arid again. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting up to close the distance between him and his brother, scared shitless but intent on finding out exactly what this could mean.

    However Dean beat him to it.

    “No, no, no — _no_!”

    A solid hand on Sam’s chest pushed him back on the bed.

    “You are _not_ doing this, we are _not_ talking about this, this is _not_ — I’ll take em off and we’ll never talk about this again, okay?!”

    Sam blinked up at him, eyes scanning the soft material clinging to his brothers upper body, emphasizing the muscle there that seemed to get bigger by the week. Dean caught his gaze, swallowing and letting out a hesitant breath.

    “Sammy— ?”

    Sam licked his lips, bringing a hand up to play with the hem of the t-shirt and the telling tear.

    “It looks good on you.”

    Dean’s exhale turned tremulous then, his eyes closing as Sam’s knuckles grazed his skin.

    “What.. I—  Sammy what are you—”

    He was gorgeous like this, luminance finding and caressing the sharp angles and shapes of his face, chest slightly trembling and those hips— unnaturally still and standing perfect at Sam’s eye level. Even in the dark he could see the outline of his brother, a thick elevation of the fabric that looked less soft than it might’ve ought to.

    Sam licked his lips, eyes fixed on the swelling of Dean’s cock. Dean sounded like he was about to cry.

    “Sammy what — ? _Jesus_ , this aint right.”, he choked out but still made no effort to move, his hand still pressed against his little brother’s chest. He could feel the heart of him beneath his fingers, the heavy rise and fall as his pulse beat harder and faster against the wall of his chest.

    Sam let his hand wander to rest on Dean’s exposed hip, his left hand travelling up his thigh to do the same. He glanced up at him again, locking eyes, breath shallow and palpitating.

    “It looks good on you”, he repeated, trying to ingrain as much meaning behind his words, searching his brother’s eyes for recognition of exactly what he was telling him.

    Dean drew in a harsh breath that came out a shudder.

    Emboldened by Dean’s lack of rejection Sam hardened his grip on his hips and gently tugged, pulling him down on the bed until he had him splayed out beneath him.

    Dean said nothing, just watched Sam’s every move with the eyes of someone who still thinks he’s dreaming.

    Sam crawled up over his body, bracing his arms on either side of Dean’s head, crowding him. A thrill of having his brother displayed for him like this shot through him, of having Dean almost squirming beneath him. It made him swell up even more in his pajama pants, the worn fabric a frustrating press against his straining cock.

    He leaned down, never once losing eye contact, hovering just above Dean’s lips; plush and soft pink so close, just waiting, inviting and pliant.

    “Can I?”, it was nothing more but a breath but Dean responded right away, his eyes widening as his head moved in an almost imperceptible nod.

    He had braced himself for at least some feeling of _shame_ or _wrong_ but all he was met with was home and warmth. Dean’s lips was impossibly plush and plump against his own, cushioning every tug and pull as he tried to mold their lips together as he’d seen on TV. He wouldn't let Dean know that except for Lily in third grade this was his first kiss. If he did he was sure Dean would stop him; and that was just not going to happen.

    The kiss quickly turned hungry as Dean’s body snapped into action. It was almost like he started out of a daze and soon Sam was plastered against Dean’s body, warm, strong arms holding him in a vice grip as his brother moaned into his mouth. Sam’s dick jerked against the apex of Dean’s thigh, a droplet of precum trickling out and dampening the fabric.

    “Sammy..”

    A swipe of tongue over his bottom lip.

    “Oh god, _Sammy_..”

    Sam inhaled sharply, a jolt of arousal shooting through his body as Dean’s teeth grazed him.

    “Can’t believe—”

    Sam freed himself from Dean’s embrace. If they were doing this, he was doing it right. And there was one thing he kept tucked away in the darkest murkiest corners of his conscience; one thing that no matter how hard he tried would always sneak back into his dreams, leaving him wet and uncomfortable in the mornings.

    He pulled himself up on all fours and dived straight in for his brother’s neck, licking and sucking and tasting as he rolled his hips to his best ability, pressing his hips to meet Dean’s.

    “Oh, f-fuck—”, Dean choked off on a moan.

    Sam backed up then, positioning himself lower on the bed until his eyes were level with the soft blond trail of hairs peeking up from the edge of _his_ sweatpants. Dean had become fully hard and the slight curve of him tenting the material was enough to make Sam’s mouth water. How many times hadn’t he woken up in the middle of the night, shaking and coming like a freight train as the result of Dean pushing him to his knees in his dreams, thumbing his bottom lip to get him to open up and continue to use his mouth until he poured down Sam’s throat, hot, wet and creamy.

    Dean had watched him up until now, eyes glazed over and heavy hooded as Sam marveled at the shape of him twitching beneath his gaze. When Sam’s fingers slowly and almost reverently stroked him his jaw snapped shut and he let his head fall back on a groan.

    “ _Fuck_.”

    Sam lay down between Dean’s spread legs, angling himself to the side as to not put too much pressure on his own cock. He pulled at the edge of Dean’s sweats, revealing inch after heated inch of smooth hard flesh until his brother’s cock sprung free, smacking up against his stomach with a noise that sounded absolutely sinful to Sam’s ears.

    The head was practically pulsating, pretty and flushed an almost punch pink; a large vein circled his shaft from his balls to the tip, resting in a trimmed bed of dark blond hair.

    Dean’s hands twitching spasmodically at his side being all the permission Sam needed, he delved in, letting his tongue drip with saliva up and over Dean’s base,  drenching him in slick spit. He’d never thought about how different the skin was there, silky and smooth and impossibly warm. Above him he could faintly make out a strangled huff as the tip of his tongue reached the bulging head and tasted the single drop of pre-come waiting at the slit.

    Deans hips bucked up, his abs constricting as he tried to keep himself from squirming; but it was too intense, Sammy’s tongue too hot and his cock hard to the border of painful, and he still couldn’t believe he was awake, that he wasn’t just having another one of his twisted Sammy-centered dreams.

    Sam moaned low in his chest at the taste, of finally having his lips wrapped around his big brother. It was salacious and twisted and _right_.

    Encouraged by another full body shiver from his brother he let a big gollop of spit fall from his mouth onto Dean’s length, spreading more slick with his fingers in slow but firm motions, intent on re-enacting every wicked thought he’s ever had in case Dean comes out of this remorseful and refusing to do this with Sam ever again.

    Unable to keep himself under control any longer Sam began undulating his hips, pushing against the mattress until the head of his cock was trapped between his belly and the elastic of his pants. He moaned low and needy, rutting against the mattress in slow shallow thrusts, licking languidly over Dean’s shaft.

    “Sammy.. what are you—”, his head snapped back down at the sight of Sammy’s cock peeking out beneath his waistband as he fucked  against the sheets, “Oh _shit_..”

    Fueled by a fresh wave of arousal that ignited Sam clamped his hands down on Dean’s hips keeping him in place and locked his lips around the flushed head. Dean completely tensed all over as blabbering praises started to spill from his mouth like a wonderfully salacious benediction.

    “Sammy, _sammy,_ sam— oh, _fuck_ .. _Sammy—_ ”

    Sam could do nothing but moan in response, too occupied with the heavy weight in his mouth, with how good it felt to have him so warm and hard against his tongue, with how every new droplet of pre-come landing on his tastebuds sent scintillating sparks down his spine; too immersed in the task of sucking his big brother dry and too focused on the throbbing pulse between his own legs.

    Sam’s hips started to get erratic as Dean’s breaths picked up, hitching in his throat, his thrusts turning into more of a rutting than anything else, pushing down, willing the elastic to grip him just that little bit harder. He took out his frustrations on Dean, squeezing his eyes shut and sliding his mouth faster up and down his shaft, pulling his sore and swollen lips tighter around him and pressing his tongue to the large vein pulsing against him.

    “A _— ah_!”

    It was overwhelming, it was begging and desperate and something they both just _needed_. Sam had never felt the urge to come so bad in his all of his teenage life and tears of frustration started to form at the corners of his mouth as he ground and rubbed against the bed.

    “Oh _fuck_ , Sammy.. Sammy, Sammy, sam..So hot.. you’re so hot like this.. _Christ_ , you’re beautiful— a— _ah_!”

    Sam’s eye flew open, locking on Dean’s face, following his fixed gaze to his own cock, watching the lust-blown pure want in his eyes.

    It was all that it took.

    Sam whined loudly, his hips jerking as he spilled all over the sheets, hitting Dean’s thigh with rope after rope of creamy white. Not once did he let up on Dean’s cock, he sucked and licked through his orgasm, lips twitching and trembling around him.

    “Sam, I _can’t_ I’m gonna—”, he tried to push at Sam’s head but that only made him suck down harder.

    Dean came with a hoarse shout, his legs shaking around his little brother as tide after tide of pleasure crashed through him.

    Sam just drank him down, swallowing with loud gulps, suckling gently to get the very last drop of him.

    When they’d catched their breaths Sam did the only thing he could think of and crawled up the bed, snuggling into the side of his big brother.

    “Sammy.. I—”

    “I don’t wanna talk.. can we just sleep?”, he yawned and nuzzled his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, too afterglow lazy and cumdrunk that the thought of rejection didn’t even faze him.

    Dean just grabbed a t-shirt from the floor, wiping Sam off and then pulled the covers up over the both of them, wrapping an arm around his brother.

    “Okay, Sammy.”


End file.
